


Hush

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: Of Hunters and Hellblazers [27]
Category: Constantine (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Six Six Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4629555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shhh,” Constantine whispers over Dean’s lips. “You gotta be <i>quiet</i>, Winchester.”</p><hr/><p>By popular request: a little 666 word sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4475087">Closer</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal love and kittens to [darrenandthehellblazer](http://darrenandthehellblazer.tumblr.com/) for the quick and helpful beta and yank-check! <3

“Shhh,” Constantine whispers over Dean’s lips. “You gotta be _quiet_ , Winchester.”

His hands slide over Dean’s overheated skin, like sweet relief and painful temptation. He’s so freaking close, close enough that Dean wants to sob with wanting him. But the bastard’s right. They’re in the motel bathroom and Sam’s in the next room, only ever half asleep these days. Constantine’s got Dean trapped against the old cinder-brick wall, jeans around his knees, and an exorcist's breath holding him in place. Constantine drags his fingers, torture slow and just right, up Dean’s inner thigh, drags pleasure and just the right sting of pain in his wake. He watches his hand on Dean’s skin then flicks his eyes up to Dean’s face, and god, Dean might be imagining it but it feels so close to forgiveness.

Dean breathes, rough and ragged. On the edge of a voiceless scream, when Constantine finally rakes the very barest edge of his nails on Dean’s desperate cock. God damn him, but Dean wants more than that. Wants more than their usual fight and fuck thing. Or maybe this isn’t really their usual thing. It’s hot. And it’s needy, and wanting, and painfully close to too much. But it’s not the same. It’s still too cold. It feels too close to a real fight. Too close to destruction. He wants to kiss like hellfire. He wants to be kissed like salvation. He wants-

Constantine reads him somehow, does that stupid magic thing with his fingers on Dean’s skin and presses in impossibly closer. Their lips meet for the first time in months, tongue to tongue, and Dean fucking melts to it. Melts into him. Just gives himself over body and soul into this panic edged moment of desire and sweat slick flesh. There’s just the barest hint of a lie in it, but he doesn’t fucking care, it’s too close to what he’s wanted from the moment John pushed him off all those months back.

They’ve never talked in words, anyway. This is better, closer, more true and less real all at once. Doesn’t mean you can’t lie though. It’s what they both do, right. Lie. Body on body lies. Pretending it’s alright, pretending it’s light outside. Pretending Dean doesn’t know what it would taste like with sulfur instead of cigarette smoke.

Dean pulls Constantine closer. Runs his hand into the Hellblazer’s hair and tries not to think about the last two times he felt something similar. There’s a coil of old familiar guilt in his gut when he notices the contrast, the way John is pushy but never brutal, plays the edge of pain but never too far, he’s all give in a way Dean never noticed before… Constantine rocks up into him and it’s enough to distract him, sends his mind spiraling back into the moment. Back into his own skin, back into touch and feel and beg. Back to the wall and Constantine pressed inside him. Guilt dissolves into a better sort of tension, a readiness in his limbs, a transient expectation of more when Constantine strokes him, for real, for once. Wraps a hand around Dean’s cock and drags another friction driven whimper out of him.

“I said, shh,” Constantine’s voice is gravel and smoke against Dean’s ear, followed by a tiny bite of teeth for emphasis. Sharp and hot and so damn close. Then they’re kissing again, keeping each other quiet the only way they know how.

It starts deep and warm, moves through flesh like sensual fire. Catch and blaze on every point of contact, every slide of hand or roll of body, every place their flesh meets. There’s hellfire in his skin, in his nerves, in his soul and it rises and catches light when Constantine’s near. It rises through him, rises, rises, rises, to an incandescent edge. Too good not to want, too good to resist. Too good for the truth. Dean comes with a silent gasp, and a confession still hidden under his tongue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I has a tumblr - [kittyaugust.tumblr.com](http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com)
> 
> I hope this makes up for [Closer](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4475087)!
> 
> Your kudos and comments are what I write for, please spare a moment to let me know what you think. <3


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